Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
My eyes flicker up to see his face. His jaw is taut with what looks like a mix of pleasure and pain and satisfaction as his gaze moves between my face and what he’s doing with his hand. Each time he jerks himself he brings me a tiny bit closer to the head of his cock, but never quite makes contact. My sex clenches and saliva rushes my mouth. I have the most ludicrous urge to stick my tongue out. To close that tiny distance between us and—
I squeeze my eyes shut against the ridiculous impulse.
“Watch,” comes his quick rebuke.
My eyes snap open.
There he is again. All of him. There. Pleasuring himself right before my eyes.
Then he shifts forward suddenly so that the tip of him makes contact with my cheek. I gasp in surprise at the hot warmth of him. With his hand on the back of my head, he guides the front and then side of his cock all along my cheek and up into my hair. It’s my first feel of him apart from when he was… inside me. The skin of it is so surprisingly soft. Like velvet.
He yanks my head back and slowly drags his cock across my nose and the top of my upper lip.
Like he wants me to get the smell of him. Right now since we’ve just bathed he mostly smells like soap, but there’s just a hint of manly musk underneath.
My sex clenches again as he draws his cock over to my other cheek where he repeats pumping himself like he did on the first cheek, letting me feel all of his soft, smooth length. But so rock hard underneath the smooth.
He pulls back, but now when he jacks himself, every time his hand rolls across the tip, he rubs it against my face. Maybe on my cheek, maybe teasing my upper or lower lip. Maybe just underneath my chin. He never lingers or demands anything of me.
All I can hear is the increasing volume of his heaving breath and the slap of his skin on skin. He never lets up on his controlled grip on the back of my hair. With the way he has hold of me, I can’t look up to see his face anymore.
Only his cock. It’s too easy for the rest of the world to drop away and everything to narrow down to this—the water lapping around us, the steamy darkness, and his cock.
Where will he land it next? Will he finally push inside my mouth instead of just teasing at my lips? What would he taste like? These seem to be the only thoughts I’m capable of at the moment.
And then his forefinger taps at my lip. “Open.”
Finally.
I open my mouth. He jerks himself twice as hard as he has the whole time. But still, he only lets the angry red tip barely make contact with my wet bottom lip.
“Good girl,” he breathes out, sounding winded as he continues jacking off furiously. “Such a good fucking girl.”
And then he ejaculates, white ropes of liquid spurting toward my mouth, down my chin and onto my breasts.
I gasp and my mouth closes as I swallow, getting my first taste of… it.
Salty and bitter but not altogether unpleasant.
“Open,” he says again and I do. He rubs the tip of his cock over my lips, painting his seed on like lipstick. He squeezes himself and jerks his hand lazily up and down his length, continuing to rub just the tip of his head back and forth over me messily, up over to my cheek then back to my mouth again.
Finally he withdraws, but only to stick his thumb in my mouth.
“Suck,” he commands.
I do, sucking his finger as well as all the… cum. My stomach flips at even thinking the word. I swallow down all the cum he got in my mouth.
“Good girl.” The hand clenching the back of my head softens and he strokes his fingers through my hair instead. “That’s my good girl.”
And the praise makes my chest warm. I’m both horrified and fascinated by the feeling before I go sort of cotton-headed about it all and just enjoy the fuzzy, sleepy feeling.
After another few minutes, he takes the washcloth and cleans me up again. Then he pulls the plug on the tub and helps me step out. With several large fluffy towels, he dries me off like I’m a child.
I just stand there and allow him to do it. The whole blank-headed thing is still in full effect. It’s far easier to just follow where he leads than try to sort any of this confusing shit out.
When he leads me to his bed and pulls me in beside him, then curls his warm body around mine, I don’t so much as blink.
It’s only the next morning when I wake up to an empty bed and sunlight pouring in the window that I wonder what in the hell I let myself become last night.